Danielle Steel - Crossings

When he reached the sun deck a few moments later, he sought out the chief steward immediately. He had made the decision earlier that evening. The purser showed no surprise at the request, he was accustomed to far more exotic requests than these, and Nick explained that he needed the additional studio room to use as an office for the rest of the trip. Now that they were approaching Le Havre, he had work to do. The purser assigned two stewards to Nick, and fifteen minutes later he was ensconced in the unused studio room adjoining his suite. He didn't even leave a note for his wife. He no longer owed her any explanations. He looked around the pleasantly decorated art deco room, usually occupied by secretaries or maids, or little children. But it suited him very well, and he felt suddenly more relaxed than he had during the entire trip. He walked outside onto the deck and looked across at the deck of the Trouville suite, and there he saw Liane in her deck chair, her head back, her eyes closed, and he wondered if she was sleeping. He stood gazing at her for a moment or two, and then, as though she sensed someone there, she opened her eyes and looked over at him. He was standing in a different part of the deck than he had been earlier that evening during the exchange with his wife. He hadn't been able to see her then, but he could now, and she looked up at him in surprise and sat up in her chair with a questioning look.

“You're not at the gala, Mr. Burnham?”

“Apparently not.” He smiled across the rails at where she sat. The two decks were adjoining. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”

“You didn't. I was just enjoying the peaceful night.”

“So was I. It's a blessed relief after all that chatter.”

Her face relaxed in a smile. “It's a terrible strain sometimes, isn't it?”

“I thought that if I smiled one more time, my face would crack.”

She laughed aloud. “So did I.”

“But you must do a lot of that as an ambassador's wife. I think I would find it exhausting.”

“Sometimes I do.” For some reason it was easy to be honest with him. “Most of the time I enjoy it. My husband makes it very easy for me. He shares a lot of the burdens.” Nick fell silent at her words, thinking of Hillary dancing with the Italian, and as she watched his face she felt that she had not been very tactful. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say …” But the added words only made matters worse, and Nick looked up at her with a sad, boyish grin.

“Don't apologize. I don't think the state of my marriage is much of a secret. There's very little we share, except our son, and a mutual distrust of each other.”

“I'm sorry.” Her voice was very soft in the warm night. “It must be difficult for you.”

He sighed softly and looked up at the sky before looking back at her. “I guess it is …I don't know anymore, Liane. This is all I ever remember between us. It's been this way for a long time.” It was the first time he had called her by her first name but she didn't mind it. “I suppose she takes more liberties now than she did at first. But she's fought against this marriage since the very beginning. My captive bride.” He tried to smile but it was a feeble attempt. “It's a far cry from the romance you described to me between you and your husband.”

“Marriage is never easy every day. We have our difficult moments too, but we share common goals, common loves and interests.”

“And you're nothing like my wife.” He looked her straight in the eye. And he suddenly realized that she must have heard them that afternoon. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. And she sensed that he knew. Had he asked her just then, she wouldn't have denied it. She sensed that this man needed a friend, and some open, honest talk. It was as though something within him were cracking wide open and he needed a hand to hold. She was willing to lend him hers for a time, and he felt that and was grateful to her. “My marriage is a joke, Liane. And the joke is on me. She's never been faithful to me right from the first. She has to prove that she doesn't belong to anyone, least of all me.” It was rejection of the cruelest kind.

“Are you faithful to her?” Liane's voice was gentle in the night.

“I have been. I'm not sure why. Foolish, I suppose.” And he felt the fool now, remembering the bite on her neck. And as he thought of it, something deep inside him began to stir. “I shouldn't tell you my problems, Liane. I must sound like a horse's ass, standing here, moaning about my wife. You know, the damnedest thing is that I'm not even sure I care. I saw her dancing with someone tonight, and I didn't feel a thing. I care about what people think, what they see, but I'm not really sure I care about her. I did once. But I think it's finally all gone.” He stood looking out to sea, thinking of the years ahead. He would stay with her until Johnny grew up, he knew, but after that? He raised his eyes to Liane's again. “It makes me feel old sometimes, as though the good times are all gone, the happy moments to share, the ecstasy of being in love. I don't think I'll ever see that again.” His voice was sad and soft and she left her chair and walked to where he stood.

“Don't say that. You have years and years ahead, you can't know what life has in store.” Armand often said that and it was true, he had learned that after the death of Odile, after a year of despair, suddenly there had been Liane.

“You know what life has in store for me, my friend? It has business deals and steel contracts and luncheons with important men. That's not much with which to warm the heart on a cold night.”

Her voice was as soft as his. “You have your son.”

Nick nodded, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. “I do. Thank God for that. I would die without him.” She was touched by his love for his son, but she also knew that it was unhealthy for a man his age to have only that. He needed a woman he could love and who could love him. He looked at her ruefully then. “I'm thirty-eight years old, and I feel like there's nothing left.” It was a side of him she would never have known had they not talked that night. He seemed so confident, so sure of life, but she hadn't known about Hillary before, and her constant travels through other men's beds.

“Why don't you divorce her and try to get custody of the boy?” Indeed ships made for open talk between strangers.

“Do you really think I'd have a chance?” It was clear from the tone of his voice that he thought he did not.

“You might.”

“In the States, where they believe in motherhood and apple pie? Besides, I'd have to prove what she is, and the scandal would destroy us all. I don't want Johnny to know about that.”

“Eventually he'll know anyway, if that's what she is.”

He nodded. In a way she was right. But he also knew that his chances of getting custody of Johnny were very slim. She had unlimited family money to back her up, and he didn't know of any man who had defeated his wife in court on a custody case. He could never win. “I think, my friend, that I have to make do with what I've got. At least for the next year, we'll have a change of scene. I'm going to have a lot to do over here.”

“We all will.” Liane stared out into the night and then back at him. “Looking out at this, it's hard to believe that there's a troubled world out there.” She was curious about what she would find in France, if Armand was right that in a very short time there would be a war. “What will you do if the war comes, Nick? Go back to the States?”

“I guess I would. I might stay over here for a while, to finish my work, if I could. But I still don't believe we'll have to worry about that this year.” He knew that the Germans were getting prepared, he could tell from the volume of his work, but he also knew that they weren't ready yet. “Hopefully we'll all get home in time. And America will probably never get into a war over there. At least that's what Roosevelt says.”